From the Ashes Will Rise
by Quicksilver
Summary: A quick oneshot. A Maron character study, based on the historical Jeanne D'Arque. Revised and Revamped! Please read and review.


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for each new paragraph-->

She had a fear of fire. 

Her nose was always hyper sensitive to the scent of smoke. Once, when she had been cooking with Miyako, she had accidently set some cooking oil on fire. Maron had panicked, dropping the pan on the floor, shrieking like a terrified child. Luckily Miyako maintained her usual common sense, and quickly extinguished it by smoothering it with the lid of the pan. She turned to thoroughly chew Maron out for freaking out, but her friend's pale face was haunted and it stopped the harsh words from coming out. Miyako looked at her, her anger gentling into concern. 

"Maron? Are you ok?" she asked quietly, placing her hands on Maron's trembling ones.

Maron managed to force a grateful smile to her lips. "I'm fine- just a little scared. Thanks," she whispered softly.

Miyako leaned over and hugged her. "What would I do without you?" the girl detective whispered. "What would have happened if I hadn't been here?"

She was surprised to feel Maron's shaking increase. "There were flames..." she whispered. "Flames and smoke and loud voices yelling."

Miyako just held onto her friend, unable to find any words.

She had been fifteen then, and even though she always claimed that she was strong, the scent of something burning vould undo her.

_A year and a little more...._

She hadn't understood it. Then she had met Fin Fish on her seventeenth birthday, and things became clear.

She had been sleeping, having her usual dreams of smoke and intense heat. It was so hot, and she could hear men jeering at her in an unfamiliar language. She felt someone throwing things at her body... her battered, poor body. Her hair had been shaved, and...

The sound of her alarm woke her up from her restless slumber, and she rolled over, grunting slightly. Her blurry eyes focused on the clock, noting that she had just enough time for breakfast and a shower. Still half-asleep, she moved to her bathroom and started to clean.

When she stepped back out into her bedroom, wrapped in a fluffy pink towel, she sniffed the air in surprise. Someone was in her kitchen cooking. A smile traced her lips as she realized that Miyako had come to make her breakfast as a birthday surprise. Quickly she slid into her uniform and bounced out. "Hi, Miya-" she said, then stopped, her eyes widening.

This was impossible, she knew. In front of the stove hovered an angel small enough to fit into a teacup. The angel was somhow managing to cook bacon and was working on yanking an orange apart. The green-haired figment of Maron's imagination looked up and gave her a beautiful smile. "Good morning, Maron! I'm Fin Fish, your Guardian Angel, and we have a lot to talk about!"

Maron hadn't wanted to believe any of the fantastic tale the little angel had spun- of God and the Devil, of reincarnation and demons that Must Be Sealed. Maron decided that this was certainly qualifying her for the insane asylum. An angel wanting her to become a magic girl to save the beautiful hearts of men?

Needless to say, Maron skipped school that day while she argued with Fin. Finally she wrangled a concession from Fin. She would perform one theft, and if that convinced her "Kaitou Jeanne" was needed, she would continue the role. If not... well, Fin could find another sucker who would listen.

She had argued about sending a notice- wasn't it ridiculous to warn the police you were coming? But Fin had insisted that was part of the way Things Were Done, for Jeanne D'Arque had never attacked a man from behind, and neither would her reincarnation.

That first transformation would forever be burned into her memory as a part of her realization that Fin had been telling the truth. Whispering the words Fin had taught her, she felt overcome with power and love, and a barrage of memories ran through her mind, too fast for her to make sense of. Then she stood outside of the mansion she would be breaking into, dressed in shimmering garments that stood out in the shadows around her.

The theft had been easy. No one had considered this unknown kaitou a threat, and she had easily danced passed the laughable security effort. She had always been in fine shape due to her gymnastics, but the boost of power she had as Jeanne made it simple for her to do the physically impossible.

Then came the target, and after a short chant, words that came to her without thinking, she threw the pin into the canvas of the painting, and felt the demon inside wrestle against being purified. Stubbornly she waited until it shifted into its prison... a chesspiece. A pawn.

That night she went home to dreams, dreams of her life as Jeanne. Every night thereafter she dreamed, dreams of a rich and wonderful past. The army against England, the Dauphin, the people who loved her, the voices of saints. The King who had forgotten her, the year of misery in the cell. The trial... all events would vary, and sometimes she would dream things again and again, while occassionally a dream would never repeat itself.

Always, though, there were flames. 

  
  


**Author's Notes:**

for each new paragraph--> Historical Note: Jeanne D'Arque was burned as a witch at the stake on May 30- which happens to be Maron's birthday. The historical Jeanne D'Arque claimed that she would have "a year and a little more" to set things right. Amazingly enough, her prediction was accurate. 

At long last, a piece for Ropa-chan, who sees way too much of me as it is. Thanks go to Laz for her encouragement. 

  
  


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